Take Me On
by BellaRyuu
Summary: Falling in love wasn't the problem. Sherlock and John come to realize their feelings for one another. This is their journey, the struggle :) Rated for unavoidable content. Avoiding spoilers :)
1. Chapter 1

Take Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.

A/N: Please ignore grammatical errors and punctuation and such... Thanks! Enjoy.

It started out as a sort of game. How far could he go? How close could he get? How childish could he be? He even did it without being aware of the fact that he was gently pushing the envelope. John was so defenseless when it came to Sherlock. The detective soon found that he could get away with practically anything when it came to John. The easy-going doctor simply smiled when Sherlock leaned against him unnecesarily, grabbed his hand, invaded his personal space... No matter how much he teased the older man, nothing changed. It was comfortable. Sherlock had never had a friend before, let alone someone like John. Sometimes it was frustrating that John didn't react at all.

_Too defenceless. Too... ignorant._ Sherlock frowned.

The two friends were enjoying some downtime on the couch. John sat on one end of the couch engrossed in a randomly selected book. Sherlock lay on the couch with his feet resting on the other man's lap. John held the book in his left hand, his right hand absentmindedly resting on on Sherlock's shin. The detective snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes searching the other man's face. John looked completely focused on his book, most likely unaware that he had begun to lightly caress Sherlock's leg. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to call the other man out on it or not. He was curious how John would respond, but he didn't want the sensation to go away.

"What?" John asked, breaking Sherlock's train of thought. When Sherlock only stared at the other man with his mouth slightly ajaw John looked away from his book to frown slightly at his friend. "Why are you staring at me so intensely?"

"I was trying to decide whether or not to bring it to your attention that you have been petting me." Sherlock answered honestly.

John looked down at his hand on his friend's leg and shrugged.

"Nothing new there. Was it bothering you?" John asked. They searched each other's face for a moment. Sherlock shook his head slightly in response and John turned his attention back to his book.

Sherlock took a moment to try to decide what he should do next. Did he give up on this game of his? No, no he couldn't possibly do that. He had gotten too used to these moments with John. The comfort. He had never really been interested in physical contact with another person before, but now that he had gained such a close relationship with someone he didn't want to lose it. No, not someone. John. What was it about this man, this doctor, that changed everything? His kind honest eyes, his hesitant smile, his loyalty, his trust, his warmth... just to name a few. There was no one quite like John Watson. Especially not for Sherlock. John was just so... accepting. Of everything. When others would run away from Sherlock's rampages, John would stick it out and help him make it through. When others would dismiss him and call him names, John applauded him.

If Sherlock was completely honest with himself, he would say that the main appeal to John was that he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. When others had been jealous or annoyed by Sherlock's brilliant mind- John had been awed. John had complimented him, praised him, encouraged him. Many times. The detective found that what he had thought of as a game had gone beyond that. He wanted to see how the other man would respond, true. But what was his real motivation? Did he really need an excuse-to himself- to be close to John? The doctor didn't seem to mind the touching, so maybe Sherlock had read him wrong. No, that was impossible. John had definitly shied away from others before. He could distinctly remember the man appologising to others with "Sorry, I don't like to be touched". Sherlock decided that perhaps John was only putting up with his antics. Maybe there was a point where John would tell him he'd gone too far. He considered his options and weighed the outcomes.

"John?" The man in question raised his eyebrows before tearing himself away from his book to look questioningly at his best friend.

"Yes?"

"I'm uncomfortable. I need a pillow." Sherlock requested. John sighed.

"Well the couch pillows are gone. You know that." John accused. Sherlock did know that, being the one who had stabbed them with a knife and tore them apart.

"Yes, I know." Sherlock snapped. He pouted and turned his face away.

"Alright, come on then." John said. He held his arm out invitingly. Was he really suggesting that Sherlock use his lap as a pillow? Sherlock became aware of the feelings of shock on his own face and managed to regain his composure.

"Well if you're offering..." He said.

"Why are you so content to lounge on the couch all afternoon anyway?" John asked as Sherlock re-situated himself.

"I'm tired. My head hurts. I don't want to do anything else." Sherlock pouted. John smiled, looking down at the other man's head now in his lap.

"I never thought you would say anything like that." John said. Concern began to show on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just let me... lounge, as you call it." Sherlock said dismissively. He rolled over onto his side, facing away from John.

"If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me." John offered. He lightly touched Sherlock's temple, brushing a curl back from the corner of the other man's eye. Sherlock closed his eyes at this and failed to hide a slight smile. John took the smile as consent and drew small gentle circles atop his temple. The gentle sensation gave Sherlock goosebumps, his breathing slowing slightly so he could focus more of his attention to this wonderful feeling. This was definitely the best decision.

John may be way too accepting of Sherlock, but that was okay. No one else was allowed to get this close. No one else was allowed to touch him. Only John.

Of course he couldn't read anymore. Not now. Sherlock had fallen asleep almost immediately after John had begun caressing him. The world's only consulting detective now lay defenseless and carefree with his head atop his best friend's lap. John stared down at the other man, wondering what could be bothering him so much. Did Sherlock seek comfort? Was that what this was about? John lightly caressed the other man's face, thinking back to all the expressions he had seen this man show. They were all intriguing. The others had complained about the detective being monotone, unapproachable, emotionless. They were confused by Sherlock's gentle smile- directed at John of course. They would never believe how giddy this man could get. True he would become giddy over bizarre things, but what did that matter? Sherlock put on a show, hid himself away, refused to show any vulnerability to everyone except John.

John knew everything about Sherlock. He knew the real Sherlock. The childish, needy, sometimes clumsy, beautiful genius. That was _his_ Sherlock. How could anyone look at this man with anything but wonder? He was truly amazing. John felt protective over this fascinating man. He wanted to treasure him as no one else had, give him the support he needed. He even let the other man get close to him, touch him. Not even girlfriends had been able to get away with as much as Sherlock could. The man could pretty much get away with anything and everything. Maybe... maybe he was spoiling the younger man too much? Or perhaps he was only being used by the detective. When one of them eventually got a girlfriend who would be affected the most? Sherlock had been very unhappy with John's previous girlfriends. He had appeared to be practically jealous. Speaking of which, every time John saw Sherlock getting too friendly with a woman he felt a burning jealousy. He wanted to monopolise the detective. That dizzying smile was supposed to be for him alone...

Sherlock made a small noise in his sleep, shaking John from his thoughts. This relationship wasn't normal. It couldn't be healthy, not in the long run. The thought of Sherlock falling in love with someone made him feel sick. He was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to take it. The women were obviously fans of the gorgeous detective. If Sherlock decided to give in to one of the women vying for his attention would they be able to accept all of him? Or would he change for them? Everyone had said that Sherlock changed when he started hanging out with John, what if it was worse with a girlfriend? What if this strange jealousy wasn't all he had to worry about... He could risk losing a friend. The thought of losing his Sherlock was the most depressing, the most maddening.

Perhaps though, if John found someone first it wouldn't hurt so bad. If he could find that special someone for himself, he could draw the line with Sherlock. He could reel those strange feelings back in, tell himself that his girlfriend was the only one he could be this close to. Sherlock would grow up, get over this and find himself a girl eventually. Or remain alone if that's what he truly desired. But if he wanted to be friends with John he needed to be more accepting of John's girlfriend. Sherlock frowned and rolled onto his back to look up at John.

"You're thinking too loud." The detective said sleepily.

"I don't suppose you've mastered reading minds yet?" John asked, only half-joking.

"Not yet. Care to share?" Sherlock seemed grumpy. He was practically pouting because he didn't know what John was thinking. How cute.

"Too complicated." John told him. "Come on, get up. We've laid about far too much."

"But I'm comfortable." Sherlock pouted.

"I'm not your pillow, Sherlock. Save this sort of thing for your girlfriend." John said.

"I don't have a girlfriend." Sherlock looked confused and disgusted.

"Yet. You should find one. You've been really touchy lately, looks like you've mellowed out enough to be able to put up with someone being close-"

"No. Not someone, John. You. Don't talk nonsense." Sherlock sat up, leaving the warmth of John's lap. Why was his heart speeding up?

"Sherlock..."

"Wait." Sherlock put a hand to his forehead, heart and mind racing. A growing presence on his chest. "You're trying to get rid of me."

"What? No. It's.. it's nothing like that." John watched the other man stand and look down at him.

"You are lying... I... I annoyed you. I knew I should've stopped. I went too far and now-"

"Sherlock, stop. I'm not upset with you or anything. I just think it's weird for two guys to be as close as we are. We... we should both try to find a girlfriend, be normal." John sputtered.

"I... don't.. I don't want a bloody girlfriend John." Sherlock growled.

"Well.. I do and I think it would be good for you-"

"YOU are good for me. I don't want to be with anyone else."

"Listen to yourself Sherlock. That sounds..."

"What? It sounds as though I value you more than anyone else in the world? Don't be stupid John, for me...For me there is no one-" The phone began to ring. John moved to answer it.

"Don't answer the phone!" Sherlock yelled incredulously.

"It's Lestrade." John announced, looking at the caller i.d. Sherlock took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. He reached out for the phone.

"What?! Make it quick." He answered. After a moment he agreed to meet up at a crime scene and hung up. "Where was I? Oh. John-!"

"No, Sherlock. You're my best friend, I'll always care about you. But you need to find your special someone. I feel like you maybe think it's me, but you're wrong. Friends... it's nowhere near the same. You're closing yourself off, refusing to fall in love..." John argued.

"Refusing to..." Sherlock stared at his friend with eyes full of pain. He tore his eyes way from the other man and stormed off to go get dressed.

John stared after his friend for a moment, confused about what had just happened. Why had Sherlock looked so hurt? Maybe there was some emotional trauma in Sherlock's past that John didn't know about. He tried to think back if Sherlock had mentioned any such thing. According to Sherlock he was incapable of loving anyone. Knowing how Sherlock was when he got in a bad mood, John decided to quickly get ready to go before the other man simply left him.

Sherlock put both hands over his face and groaned. He had been foolish to play this game with John. He had only managed to push the other man away. The thought of being interested in another man- of a man being interested in him was too much for John. He clearly refused to accept such a thing. Sherlock had been rejected, shut out, pushed away. Because he was a man. It had never even crossed his mind that something like this would happen. What did it matter if John was a man? Sherlock had never been interested in either sex, so he couldn't claim to be gay or straight. Possibly asexual. Ever since he'd become close to John he'd realised if nothing else he was Johnsexual. Not that it really had much to do with sex. More than physical, it was beyond even emotional. Everything in him wanted to be with John, belonged with John. As for the good doctor... he didn't feel the same, not in the slightest.

A/N: I'm ending it at a pretty upsetting point for today. Try not to hate me. Thank you for reading my story. Reviews are encouraged. ^_^

~BellaRyuu~


	2. Chapter 2

Take Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes- sadly.

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read my story so far! It's really hard not to jump straight into fun sexy-time.

Sherlock withdrew into himself during the cab ride to the murder scene. John let him have his space, let him keep to himself. He wasn't sure how to go about this. Sherlock was clearly upset with him, worse than the anger was the underlying hurt in the detective's eyes. The way he held himself, as if a touch would send him off the deep end. John thought back to their conversation, repeating everything word for word over and over. What had it been that had upset Sherlock so much? Surely he understood where John was coming from and would eventually come to realize that he was right. Of course they were so attached to one another; who else did they have? John wondered if perhaps the best thing to do would be to just find himself a girlfriend and to hell with what Sherlock thought.

When they arrived at the victim's home Sherlock ran off to meet with Lestrade and John stayed back a bit to give the man his space.

Sherlock knelt by the body observing, only half-listening to Lestrade. He noticed that John decided to stay back, which was probably for the best. He reported his observations to Lestrade and glanced in the direction of John's voice. He was met with John's smiling profile as the doctor caught up with Sally Donovan. The curly haired woman laughed and touched John's shoulder. Instead of his usual awkward response, John leaned closer to the woman and continued joking with her. So he was okay with Sally touching him? Maybe he had gotten over his issues...

"Sherlock?" Lestrade called to the detective.

"What?" Sherlock slowly turned to look at the other man.

"Did you and John have a fight?" Lestrade sympathized. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Can you focus on the case?" He frowned.

"Can you?" Lestrade teased.

Unfortunately for Sherlock this case was too easy and offered very little distraction. He tried not to look at John. Each time he saw the other man enjoying a chat with someone else he felt like he was going to go crazy. He told Lestrade everything he knew and quickly escaped through the back door before John could spot him.

"So... you and Sherlock had a fight?" Lestrade asked. John searched the room and frowned when he realized his friend was nowhere to be found.

"Just trying to get him to grow up, as usual." John said absently. "Where is he?"

"Ah. He seemed pretty eager to get away from you..." Lestrade shrugged.

"Ooooh!" "Lover's quarrel!" "Go after him!" The other detectives butted in. John shook his head and turned to leave. He wouldn't run after the other man. He would however return home in hopes of meeting up with him.

When John arrived home he found that Sherlock had not returned. He sighed and went to his room to get ready for bed. After a shower, a change of clothes, and a cup of tea Sherlock was still not back.

_Hope you haven't gone and gotten into trouble. -JW_

He stared down at his phone, hoping to get a response soon. A half an hour went by. An hour. Two hours. Three hours. John fell asleep on the couch waiting for his phone to ring. Was Sherlock out working on the case? He should have found out more from Lestrade.

John startled awake around 5 a.m. There had been a noise nearby. A door closing, perhaps. He blinked up at Sherlock and frowned at the other man sleepily. Sherlock looked as though he'd been up all night and was exhausted. The two men stared at each other for a moment.

"Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?" John questioned.

"Didn't feel like coming home." Sherlock sat on the other end of the couch, by John's feet.

"Look Sherlock, can we just forget about yesterday? Everything I said clearly came out wrong. You're pretty much my only friend and I can't lose you." John said hopefully.

"You're right... I'll just ignore it..." Sherlock mumbled. He appeared to be close to nodding off.

"Hmm? Ignoring the conversation?" John asked. A slight shake of the head from Sherlock.

"Sentiment. It's fairly new and I don't think I like it..." Sherlock's heavily lidded eyes met with John's for a moment. "I was...foolish."

The detective fell asleep sitting up, his hand falling to rest on John's foot. John stared at his friend in confusion. He could only hope that Sherlock was talking about being foolish with his feelings. He hadn't done anything stupid had he? He didn't appear to be hurt, and any drugs he did would usually give him a high for a while. After a moment of studying the detective, John relaxed. Sherlock frowned in his sleep and appeared to be having a bad dream. John found himself sitting up and moving to be closer to his friend. Gently, so as not to wake the sleeping man, John smoothed his fingertips across Sherlock's forehead and down the side of his face to sooth the frowning muscles. Sherlock was soothed almost immediately. He leaned into John's touch and ended up snuggling up to John in his sleep, his head resting on the smaller man's chest. John readjusted, wrapping his arm around Sherlock and smiling. For a grown man, Sherlock sure could be cute. The detective wrapped an arm around John's waist. John stroked his friend's back comfortingly, pleased to find that the other man had calmed down considerably. Now if only they could resolve whatever emotional struggle Sherlock was having. Hmm, a feeling that was fairly new that Sherlock didn't seem to like. Of course Sherlock wouldn't take well to many emotions. The detective was disgusted about the possibility of ever falling in love...

Was that it? Love? Sherlock's words were suddenly echoing in John's head. "For me... For me there is no one-" "I don't want to be with anyone else." He could see Sherlock's eyes full of pain. "Refusing to..." Maybe he wasn't refusing to fall in love because he'd already fallen.

"Are you in love with me?" John whispered to the sleeping man. He almost expected the other man to answer but Sherlock appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Of course that was a ridiculous conclusion. How could such a beautiful, eccentric person fall for plain old John Watson? Except... what other possible conclusion was there?

"John..." Sherlock mumbled in his sleep. John froze. It took him a moment to realize the other man was asleep. "...don't...go..."

John smiled and whispered, "I'm right here."

"Stupid." Sherlock groaned, tightening his arm around John. The doctor closed his eyes and realized he felt a great sense of relief. Sherlock was back by his side.

Sherlock awoke feeling hot and slightly uncomfortable. It didn't take him long to realize he had fallen asleep completely dressed, coat and all. When he moved to begin stripping the offending clothes he realized something else. He and John had somehow fallen asleep on the couch together. They were cuddled up together with John lying on his back, one foot off the couch touching the floor. Sherlock lay atop John's chest, curled up on his side with his right arm draped across John's waist and his hand beneath John's shirt to rest against his bare side. Sherlock lay still a moment trying to remember last night. By the time he had gotten home he was so exhausted that everything was a blur. He remembered talking to John, John's concerned expression... Damn, he was burning up. He couldn't lay here like this any longer, the clothes felt heavy. Sherlock began to extract himself from the other man but froze when John groaned and pulled the detective close. His heart beating wildly, Sherlock considered staying put for at least a while longer. Who knew when this opportunity would present itself again. With a groan of his own, Sherlock carefully extracted himself and stood. He practically yanked his coat off and tossed it onto the chair. Better.

He looked down at his best friend and part of him wanted to regain his current position. John's eyebrows were furrowed slightly, the beginnings of a frown. Sherlock found himself reaching out to the other man, lightly brushing his knuckles across John's forehead. The doctor's features softened and he leaned into the other man's touch. Had John waited up all night for him to get home? Maybe he should have texted his friend back last night. But what was he supposed to say? "I need alone time to sort out my feelings"? He had realized that deep down he had always loved John, from the very beginning. Their whole relationship Sherlock had only been falling harder for the sandy haired man. He had always thought they they would be together forever. A team, a pair... but not a couple. It had been perfectly comfortable, easy. But John had made it clear that he wasn't okay with being like this with Sherlock forever. While the thought of being with anyone else was ridiculous for Sherlock, it was what John wanted.

He craved more, he wanted to be as close to John as possible. Being as physically close as they had been these past few weeks had only made Sherlock want more. John's lack of reaction had been taken as a challenge then, but looking back... The doctor didn't respond the way Sherlock had wanted because he didn't see Sherlock that way. He didn't see him as any sort of threat, not a potential interest. The conclusion Sherlock came to was that John most likely saw Sherlock as a brother. John wasn't gay and didn't think that Sherlock was so he had most likely never even considered the possibility that there could be something more than friendship here. John had to be at least somewhat aware of Sherlock's feelings after yesterday. Unless he was being ignorant. He had to wonder if it really only came down to the two of them being men. Was John completely unable to have any sort of romantic feelings for him?

Sherlock went to his room to change into more comfortable clothes. He checked his phone on the way, smirking when he saw a text from Lestrade saying the case was closed. He took a refreshing shower before getting dressed in his lounge-about clothes. He had made up his mind concerning John. If the other man was trying to push him away anyway he might as well be clear with him about his feelings. Lay everything on the table. John was a good man. If nothing else he would gently reject his friend and be more aware of the affect he was having on him. This would at least make John understand why Sherlock hated the thought of a girlfriend. And if he were to get a girlfriend he would at least know better than to flaunt her in front of Sherlock. The detective was already getting used to this weight, this pain on his chest. He had wandered about all night trying to make himself do the right thing. He loved John and he didn't want to lose him... but had he really ever had John to begin with? Not the way he wanted. Love was supposed to be this amazing, beautiful thing. To Sherlock it only felt like a sickness; a suffocating, torturous sickness that couldn't be cured. For all he knew it would only get worse. He found himself both looking forward to and dreading the conversation he had to have with John. Something John had said to him when he got home last night popped into his head. "...my only friend, and I can't lose you.."

Sherlock took a deep breath and went back to the living room to face his only friend. Maybe he'd already lost him, maybe it was too late for John to be just friends with Sherlock. Perhaps it had been that way long ago. If only there was some way to make John feel the same... But he could see it in the other man's eyes every time he looked at him, he just didn't see Sherlock that way at all. Why hadn't he caught onto this sooner- the fact that he was the only one falling. Would he have been able to stop his feelings before they became too much?

A/N: Thank you for reading. I feel like I'm hurting Sherlock so I'll slap John around a bit for not returning his feelings properly. Please continue reading.

~BellaRyuu~


	3. Chapter 3

Take Me

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything but my imagination.

John was in the kitchen making tea when Sherlock returned. The detective watched the other man move about the kitchen, making toast and humming. He stood back trying to decide whether it would be more entertaining to startle the other man by speaking or by approaching him in silence. John turned around and jumped.

"Shit Sherlock! Don't sneak up on people." John scolded.

"Technically I didn't sneak up on you. You were just too busy humming to notice me." Sherlock pointed out. John laughed.

"I suppose you're right." He took in the other man's appearance. "Not going anywhere today?"

"The case is closed. No point in getting dressed." Sherlock shrugged.

"Hmm. Would you like some tea?" John asked, gesturing towards the kettle.

"I think I could use some, sure." Sherlock said.

So the two friends took their tea and toast into the living room. John was a little surprised when Sherlock chose to sit on the chair rather than on the couch with him. He also noticed that the other man had barely looked at him. The detective seemed to be lost in thought, staring into his tea as though he was willing the tea to give him some sort of answers. Or maybe he was trying to find courage.

"John..." The detective started but when he looked up at his friend he lost his courage. John waited for a moment for the other man to continue.

"So, you never told me where you were last night." John broke the silence.

"I...I just wandered around. Walked home." Sherlock frowned at his tea.

"Ah... We were quite a ways away. You must have walked pretty far, no wonder you were so exhausted when you got home." John said.

"Yea... I... John, I think I'm in love with you." Sherlock blurted out. John choked on his tea and searched his friend's face. Sherlock looked embarrassed and scared. Was he... blushing? Sherlock Holmes was blushing. The detective was now staring into his tea harder than ever before. He looked like he was ready to bolt any minute. The pain and the fear that painted Sherlock's face hurt John. He wasn't sure what to say to make things better. He didn't want to make his friend feel this way.

"With me? Why?" He found himself asking in confusion. Sherlock finally looked at him with his classic "are you an idiot" expression.

"What do you mean 'why'?" He asked. John sat his tea down.

"What's so special about me? Are you even sure that's how you really feel I mean-"

"THIS is how you respond?" Sherlock asked, taken aback. John shrugged.

"What do you want me to say? No one has ever confessed to being in love with me before." John looked away from his friend, slightly embarrassed. More than being told "I love you", "I'm in love with you" was...

"Look, I'm... prepared for your refusal, the rejection. I know you don't feel... that... for me so..." Sherlock wanted to run away but he knew he had to hear John's part. But if he ran away and then avoided John he would never have to hear the heartbreaking words. Not that he could avoid John for long.

"Is that why you stayed out all night?" John asked softly. He felt as though he shared Sherlock's pain as he watched the other man nod.

"Sherlock...I've never been interested in men-"

"Right!" Sherlock stood, deciding he couldn't do this after all.

"Wait, Sherlock!" John stood in front of his friend.

"I can't John. I thought I could but I can't." Sherlock kept his head lowered and slightly turned to the side so he couldn't see John's face and John couldn't clearly see his.

"Please hear me out Sherlock." John pleaded. The other man clenched his fists and steeled himself. "I've never cared about someone so much in my life. While I'm not capable of suddenly being attracted to a man, I think... I can't just reject you...I can't lose you... and honestly... I think maybe..." He covered his mouth with his right hand and made himself think this through a little more. Sherlock finally looked at his friend in confusion.

"What are you saying?" He asked with a frown.

"Oh god, Sherlock I don't know. Just don't give me an ultimatum, okay? I think... if nothing else I can agree to stop being stupid about the whole girlfriend thing. In all honesty I don't want to see you with someone else either-" John looked away from his friend and bit his lip. More than admitting this to Sherlock, he was admitting it to himself. Voicing it aloud made it too true. The two men remained in silence. Sherlock studied his friend's face, disbelief now showing on his. John was embarrassed.

"Good enough." Sherlock declared. Was he smiling? He tried to tell himself that there was no reason to smile but the pain was beginning to dissipate. It was being replaced by a tingling sensation...Hope?

John cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced at Sherlock. As usual seeing his friend smile made him want to smile as well. He fought it off at first but soon gave in.

"So... it's still okay to touch you?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" John asked.

"Something tells me you still don't get it after all." Sherlock said pointedly. John blinked a few times, blushing slightly.

"Ah, well... I didn't think that..." John sputtered. Sherlock laughed.

"Relax. I only meant this." He reached out and took the other man's hand. He studied the doctor's face and smiled again. "Unless you want more." He teased.

"Haha. The tea's getting cold." John responded.

As the two sat in comfortable silence together on the couch, Sherlock began to wonder if he could actually make the other man fall for him after all. John didn't like the thought of him being with someone else. That was a good sign. If he could feel jealous over Sherlock there was definitely hope. John decided to turn the television on and watch the news. Sherlock laid down on the couch with his head resting on John's lap. He wanted to be as close to the other man as possible to prove to himself that it was really okay. He was a bit tense, waiting for John to tell him to move or push him away. John did neither of these things, choosing instead to ruffle his hair playfully.

"Are you okay with the telly?" John asked. Sherlock rolled over on his back and looked up at John.

"It's fine. As long as you're fine with this." His blue eyes held a teasing seduction. John smiled down at him.

"Fine." He answered. Sherlock grabbed John's right hand and placed it on his chest. He held it there and closed his eyes. John could feel the other man's heart pounding steadily. It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from the detective's peaceful face. He focused on the television, sure his own heart had sped up to match his friend's.

The reporter on the television was reporting the disappearance of a famous American football player. Apparently the athlete was on vacation in London for personal reasons but had not been seen for days. John found himself looking down at the detective, wondering if he had any interest in this bit of news. Sherlock appeared to be unfazed. His eyes remained shut, a calm expression on his face. John used his free hand to brush the other man's dark hair back from his forehead. He took a moment to admire this beautiful man with his pale smooth skin and pronounced cheek bones. In this almost sleep-like state the detective didn't seem real. He was like a huge doll. Those full lips with a perfect cupid's bow twitched slightly and soon became a full smile.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked in amusement. John cleared his throat.

"Right. Sorry. I'm not altogether sure." He made himself focus back on the news.

"He's dead." Sherlock announced.

"Hmm? What's that?" John frowned down at his friend. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked up at John.

"The American. He's dead. I'm sure of it." Sherlock searched his friend's face.

"Ah... Why are you looking at me like that?" John asked nervously.

"Why were you staring at me?" Sherlock countered with a smirk. John opened his mouth, realized he didn't have a good response and shut it, deciding to focus on the television again.

Sherlock closed his eyes and let it all sink in. John hadn't rejected him. He hadn't pushed him away. The detective replayed everything John had said earlier, remembering the doctor's facial expressions. Now that things had calmed down a bit Sherlock could reflect on their conversation better. John had said that he wasn't capable of suddenly being attracted to a man, but then why did he had he stared at Sherlock with such a look of soft amazement? Sherlock couldn't help but think that confessing was the right thing to do, the best decision he could have made. He had been prepared for rejection, dismissed the idea of acceptance but never had he imagined that all John needed was a push. Sherlock's confession had forced John to really look at him, not as a friend but as a man in love. He had let slip that he had been jealous over Sherlock. Did that mean that John wanted to be flirted with?

"You're making a ridiculous face." John's voice stirred him from his thoughts.

"Ah." Sherlock got up and began to pace. "The American. His name sounds familiar...where have I heard his name..."

"Right. Well I'll leave you to work that out. I'm starving." John muttered as he walked to the kitchen.

"We don't have any food." Sherlock reminded him. John stood in the kitchen sadly for a moment.

"Chinese sounds good. Want anything?" John perked up.

"I'll just have some of whatever you get." Sherlock had sat in his chair and had his fingertips templed beneath his chin.

John ordered enough to be able to share between the two of them and sat down at the kitchen table with his laptop. First things first, he checked his blog. He typed up a quick update and after glancing Sherlock's way typed in the football player's name. Jeremy Baker. The latest news popped up of course. John scrolled through past news articles and jumped when Sherlock yelled out "Ah HA!". John laughed to himself and leaned back in his chair waiting on the other man to come find him.

"Jeremy Baker! He came out as publicly gay a few weeks ago. Not a big deal these days, except his wife didn't even know. Of course she played it off like she would still love and support him- but I could see it in her eyes. She...Oooooh she killed him. He must have come here to meet up with his rumored lover and she wasn't having that, no. Ha! Case closed and the body hasn't even been found yet." Sherlock looked incredibly pleased with himself.

"Sherlock... that's..."

"Way too easy." Sherlock finished the other man's sentence.

"Should I text Lestrade? See what he knows?" John asked. Sherlock looked at the other man in amazement.

"You believe me, all of it?" Sherlock asked. John grinned.

"Why wouldn't I?" He headed off to answer the door and get the food.

When John returned the two men sat at the kitchen table eating and discussing the previous case. Sherlock did the majority of the talking, John did the majority of the eating. As it turned out they didn't need to text Lestrade. He called them that afternoon, requesting their assistance to solve this case as quickly as possible. Sherlock practically ran to get dressed.

"How much do you want to bet I'm right about absolutely everything?" He called to John.

"No way. I'm not betting against you." John laughed.

"Small fee. To be determined at a later time and place." Sherlock requested. John went to his room to get dressed, choosing to ignore Sherlock. When he returned downstairs Sherlock was waiting for him. His face made it clear that he was expecting a response.

"What did you have in mind?" John gave in. Sherlock grinned.

"Like I said, to be determined. Let's go!" He ran down the stairs and out the door eager to see how right he was. John shook his head as he followed. Why did he always have to give in to Sherlock Holmes?

Thank you for reading. I know my chapters are a bit short, but that just means I get them up quicker! Please continue reading and give me some more reviews. What do you think so far? It's really hard not to just smut it up, but I'm being good and building up to it. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

Take Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.

"Oh good, you two made up." Lestrade greeted the duo when they arrived at the crime scene.

"Yes, yes, where's the body?" Sherlock asked. He tried to peer over Lestrade's shoulder and past him into the abandoned house. Lestrade looked concerned about Sherlock's excitement but lead them into the house.

"Ah. Gunshot wounds to the chest. Very personal. I imagine she wanted to look into his eyes as she killed him." Sherlock looked over the man's body, as though he really needed more proof.

"I'm sorry, what? Who is 'she'?" Lestrade asked.

"He thinks the wife did it." John informed the other man. Lestrade's eyes widened.

"What? No. Mrs. Baker was devastated when we told her the news. She's been very supportive of him." He said.

"Oh, are you referring to her being supportive of his male lover?" Sherlock asked, digging through the man's coat.

"Male..." Lestrade looked to John.

"I'm guessing you don't keep up with American news. I don't either honestly." John shrugged.

"Oh keep up. Here, a photo of a younger man. Slightly crumpled, he took it with him everywhere. He came out on international news surprising everyone, most of all his wife, a few weeks ago." Sherlock handed the photo over and frowned down at the deceased.

"And what she followed him to London to kill him?" John asked. Sherlock looked up at his friend.

"He was leaving her for a man. Hearing that wouldn't have been enough. No, she... she saw them. But did she lure him off alone, or was the lover present at some point?" Sherlock pondered.

"We've got to find his lover. He probably knows something." Lestrade ran off to tell the others.

"Didn't actually have to be here for any of that." John pointed out. Sherlock grinned.

"Maybe not but it's a lot more believable in person." He said.

"And you get to be at the crime scene." John teased. Sherlock took his gloves off and walked over to John. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Come John. I've just thought of a way to make the widow talk." Sherlock led the doctor to Lestrade Lestrade and the others.

"Alright. Here's the plan. Donovan you're going to interview the wife, bond with her or something. I'm sure you'll manage..." He continued to explain the rest of the plan and his reasoning. Everyone was in agreement. So Donovan took the wife aside in the kitchen where they could sit at the bar and chat. Donovan took notes, putting on an air of concern. She asked if the couple had been having marital problems, to which Mrs. Baker said "of course not". Meanwhile John and Sherlock walked into the living room with a clear view of the kitchen.

"I still don't know what you want from me." John whispered so that only Sherlock could hear.

"Relax. It's like I explained earlier. What does everyone always assume about us?" Sherlock leaned in a little closer than was necessary to whisper back to John.

"Right. And because she's sensitive to the subject she would read more into it than most people." John sighed.

"So, in short, we just need to be ourselves and let her jump to conclusions... Although..." Sherlock smirked.

"Sherlock..." John resisted the urge to back away.

"Imagine how angry she would get, John... They've already noticed us. Time to pay that fee." Sherlock teased.

"You haven't actually won the bet yet...it's not over." John whispered putting a hand up to Sherlock's chest to stop the other man from getting too close. The taller man was already overcrowding him, forcing him to look up. Sherlock caressed John's jawline, fingertips brushing back to John's neck.

"We all know I'm right." Sherlock whispered, closing the gap between them.

John stared into Sherlock's turquoise eyes questioningly for a moment before realizing the other man intended to actually kiss him. Sherlock smirked at him and then their lips were touching. It was a very delicate, chaste kiss but it also felt like a small electric charge. John was reminded of the time he'd tried to unplug the toaster and had received a small electric shock. Rather than being reminded of previous kisses, he was reminded of this. John realized he had stopped breathing for a moment and took a shaky breath. Had his heart stopped as well? He blinked up at Sherlock and resisted the urge to lick his lips. The widow was yelling in the kitchen about gays being everywhere. There was suddenly more people around, responding to the noise. Lestrade came over to "scold" the boys for being inappropriate at a crime scene.

"Oh. I didn't realize anyone could see us." Sherlock feigned embarrassment.

Lestrade led the two friends outside away from all the commotion. Sherlock was trying not to look pleased with himself and failing.

"What did I tell you? It's almost boring to be always right." He grinned.

"I still want to find the lover though. Hopefully he's alright where ever he is." Lestrade said thoughtfully.

"Well you do have his photograph." Sherlock reminded him. Lestrade shrugged and looked to John.

"I can't believe you two kissed." He teased. John coughed and frowned at the older man.

"I didn't seem to have much of a choice." He defended himself.

"Ah. Whatever Sherlock wants he gets." Lestrade laughed. Sherlock had started to wander off already.

"Too true." John sighed.

"Come on John!" Sherlock called. John rolled his eyes at Lestrade and headed off to join Sherlock.

"Good luck finding the lover." John said as a way of saying goodbye.

"Ah...good luck to you as well." Lestrade laughed. John threw a frown at the other man.

Sherlock hailed a cab and got in first when it arrived. John hopped in beside him. Sherlock directed the cabby to take them home. John eyed the other man.

"We're going home? Just like that?" He asked.

"Well I imagine you want to blog about how quickly we solved the case." Sherlock glanced over at his friend. John laughed.

"You mean how quickly YOU solved the case. I had no part in it." John pointed out.

"Come now John. We're a team." Sherlock smiled and turned to look out the window.

John resisted the urge to stare at the other man, deciding to turn away and look out his window. He could still remember the feel of Sherlock's lips on his. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than five seconds, and yet it felt like much longer. If any other man had even tried to get that close to him he would've decked them. But Sherlock was... Sherlock. Lestrade had been too right when he had said that Sherlock got whatever he wanted. "I think I'm in love with you" echoed in John's head and he was glad he hadn't remembered that back at the crime scene. Sherlock's piercing eyes mere centimeters away from his own... their lips touching gently, Sherlock's fingertips pressing ever so slightly into the back of John's neck. John licked his lips feeling the ghost of Sherlock's lips on his. His heart was pounding in his chest. To think that the only man who had ever dared to get so close to him was in the same cab with him... He glanced at Sherlock. The detective seemed to be holding it together much better. Despite the fact that Sherlock had confessed to him he didn't seem to think too much of kissing him. John wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Shortly after arriving home Sherlock received a text from Lestrade confirming that they had a written confession from the wife. Apparently she thought that the lover knew something and had ratted her out. They still had not found the lover but according to the widow he had not been harmed. Sherlock sat in his chair with his violin and began to play. John typed up a blog about Sherlock's impressive work. He closed his laptop when he was finished with his blog and leaned back in the chair to listen to Sherlock's violin. The sun was only just going down, so it wasn't very late in the day. For Sherlock to be playing the violin at a decent hour... it was strange. John joined his friend in the living room, curious. Sherlock didn't glance at him, only continued playing.

Sherlock was lost in thought, playing the violin with his eyes closed to block out any distractions. How ever did anyone manage to do this sort of thing? Loving someone who didn't love them. At first Sherlock had thought that this was good enough. He would make John fall for him, wait for the other man to feel the same. But how long would he have to wait? Why couldn't John just love him now? He hadn't been rejected but he hadn't been accepted either. John only accepted his feelings and was being a good friend. It took more restraint than he would like to admit when it came to kissing John. It had been the perfect excuse, doing it for the case. If only someone had warned him that these things snowball. This love he had for John was a snowball that had been rolling down, gathering more and more until it was too big to control. Nothing was enough. His heart was urging him on, longing for more. More contact, more feelings, more John. He had a feeling John was going to have a talk with him soon about how kissing was off limits or something. "I've never been interested in men" John had said. Had that meant that he could make an exception for Sherlock or was that wishful thinking? He opened his eyes and put his violin down.

"That was rather violent towards the end." John said. Their eyes met but Sherlock remained silent. John decided to finish the book he had begun reading yesterday. Sherlock was still staring at him. John tried to ignore it but found it to be impossible.

"Yes?" He asked. Sherlock took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Right. John, I have no patience." He said as though that meant anything to John.

"I am aware of that." John fought a smile.

"How... I can't believe I'm asking this... how do you feel about me?" Sherlock asked. John's brows rose.

"Uh...hmm? What do you...? You're my best friend. My only friend." John stated.

"No possible romantic inclination whatsoever?" Sherlock asked. John stared at his friend. Was the detective angry?

"Sherlock... I thought we had come to an understanding of sorts." John said softly.

"Yes, well that's all fine for you John and I thought it was good enough but I was wrong. These _feelings,_" He said the word like it was disgusting. "hurt. It's ridiculous and suffocating."

Sherlock grabbed his coat and began putting it on as he walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked, jumping up to stop his friend. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Ugh, I need to get out. Keep myself busy, not _feel__._" Sherlock answered.

"And you think I don't know where that's headed? Stop, Sherlock. Listen to me." John pleaded. The other man turned and glared at him. "Look, I'm an asshole okay? I get that you're mad at me. But I can't seem to stop myself from being stupid."

"I'm not mad at you." Sherlock sighed.

"I think you are. Maybe you're mad at both of us. I never thought I'd be this way if something like this ever happened... I never thought this would happen, but with Harry I sort of... Well of course I'm accepting of same sex couples but it's different when it's yourself you're talking about..." John explained, only confusing Sherlock more.

"Anyway," John continued. "the truth is...I'm too scared to admit anything to myself, let alone you."

"John..." Sherlock was at a loss for words. What the hell was the other man trying to say?

"Really? As clever as you are, you don't get it?" John asked. He approached the taller man, trying to find the courage to say the words he needed to say to keep Sherlock here. They searched each other's face for a moment, both unsure of what to was reminded of earlier, the feeling of electricity when their lips had touched. Sherlock swallowed his pulse. Why did John have to look at him like that, was he even aware he was doing it? John closed the distance between them grabbing a fistfull of Sherlock's coat.

"I thought that even if I ignored it, you would see through me. You see through everyone." John's voice was practically a whisper. He let go of Sherlock's coat and slid his hand up until his fingers brushed through the soft curls at the nape of Sherlock's neck. This time it was Sherlock's turn to look questioningly at John.

"John-" His words were cut off as John pulled him close and crushed their lips together. If such a small kiss had felt so good, what did a "real" kiss feel like? Sherlock was so thrown off it took him a moment to respond. John's free hand slid beneath Sherlock's coat to gently press against his back. He pulled back slightly to study Sherlock. The other man had returned the kiss, but more like he was shocked and went with it. The two studied each other for a moment and then Sherlock's hand was in John's soft sandy hair and their lips were reunited. Had it always felt this good? John wondered if the fact that the other person was a man made this act more... erotic, forbidden. Though this wasn't just any man. He was kissing Sherlock, his best friend. Finally. As though this had been a long time coming. Who cared if Sherlock was a man? It was incredibly flattering that the detective was even attracted to him. John's tongue seemed to act on it's own accord to tease Sherlock's bottom lip. The detective shuddered slightly and gasped. John's tongue brushed his and the two tensed before sharing a shuddering breath. John debated pulling away, embarrassed that he'd gotten carried away. He was surprised when Sherlock pulled his body against him and deepened the kiss. The two battled it out, with Sherlock winning in the end. The kiss became more gentle gradually and the two pulled away to regain their breath. Along with some semblance of control. John cleared his throat and looked up almost shyly to meet Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock licked his lips, his eyes heavily lidded.

"So...? You're at least attracted to me?" Sherlock asked huskily. John laughed nervously.

"Ah... right...god, I need something to drink." John gently pushed his friend away and headed to the kitchen. Sherlock watched the other man go, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

Sherlock took his coat off and sat on the couch. Kissing John made him dizzy. John returned and sat on the couch with his friend.

"I thought you might not come back." Sherlock stared at John thoughtfully.

"I wasn't gone that long... oh you mean... No I'm not going to run off. Though I did get a bit carried away." John embarrassed himself. He couldn't stop himself from smiling. Sherlock wasn't smiling though. He was still trying to figure out what was going on. "You really don't understand love at all do you?"

"Clearly." Sherlock muttered. He turned away to stare into the distance.

"I've been fighting this for so long... I don't know what you do to me, but... it's so obvious and so frustrating..." John tried to make himself say what he needed to. "I'm obsessed with you." He admitted.

"Well I suppose the fact that your personal blog is completely about me would prove that." Sherlock shrugged. John frowned at him. "And you always have to know everything about me. You even talk to Mycroft about me. It's as though the two of you have a fan club. Hmm, maybe Lestrade could be included in that."

"And you never thought...?" John bit his lip and shook his head.

"What?" Sherlock frowned at the implication that he had missed something.

"That I love you, you jackass." John snapped. He quickly looked away and stared at the window.

"Of course not. I would have noticed." Sherlock was adamant.

"Right. You're blind." John sighed.

"Yes, John, I'm blind." Sherlock said sarcastically. He stood and looked down at John. The other man had his arms crossed and looked downright pouty. Sherlock placed his hands on either side of John's head, using the back of the couch to steady himself as he leaned over John. The doctor startled a bit and looked up at Sherlock. His eyes were drawn to the pale skin exposed by the button-up shirt. Why did Sherlock's collar bone look so smooth and inviting? His eyes moved back up to meet those dangerous eyes.

"Go on then, tell me you love me." Sherlock demanded. "I won't get it otherwise, right?"

"Sherlock..."John hesitated. The detective started to pull away, disappointed in himself. "I.. I love you... idiot." John held Sherlock there by grabbing both arms. The doctor blushed. Another victory for Sherlock. He reached up and held Sherlock's face between his hands. He looked into those beautiful piercing eyes from inches away.

"I love you, Sherlock." He confessed again, amazed at how relieved he felt to accept that fact. He pulled the other man into a kiss and they pulled away after a moment. Sherlock rested his forehead against John's.

"You love me?" He asked hesitantly. John smiled.

"Against my will." He confirmed. Sherlock laughed huskily and straddled John. He felt somehow drained. John automatically rested his hands on Sherlock's waist.

"Why?" Sherlock teased. John frowned.

"Why what?" He asked.

"Why me?" Sherlock asked. John rolled his eyes.

"Now that is a ridiculous question." John smiled.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know things got a little crazy but this just had to happen. Did John give in too easy? Will he regret his easy confession? Can he really be in a relationship with Sherlock? Will I continue to aske these questions? Find out next time on... "Take Me On"!

Also, special thanks to all the viewers! I'm pretty excited. Thanks for the reviews and also for not being harsh with my grammatical errors and such. Ain't nobody got time fo' dat! Should be continuing to get updates up soon, tomorrow for instance- if not later tonight! Thank you for your support!

~~~BellaRyuu~~~


	5. Chapter 5

Take Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No Sherlock, no John, no money.

A/N: Sorry it took longer than I wanted to get this up. Never know when you're suddenly going to get sick :(

Sherlock was determined to keep John on the couch forever. He had a strange feeling that as soon as they parted it would all be over. He would realize that this had all been a dream after all. So he wouldn't part from the other man until he absolutely had to. Besides, John wasn't complaining. Sherlock shuddered at the feel of his shirt being pulled slowly out of his pants. He searched John's face but the other man seemed focused on the task at hand. Starting from the bottom and working his way up John began unbuttoning the white dress shirt. Sherlock wasn't sure how to feel about John's actions. If John managed to unbutton his shirt completely would he be disappointed? For someone who had never been attracted to another man before to see a half naked man... was it disgusting? Or perhaps he would feel nothing. Seeing another man's body was nothing; nothing new to see there. Like looking at his reflection. Sherlock's nerves got to him and he put his hands over John's, stopping him about half way.

"What are you doing, John?" Sherlock asked a little shakily.

"It's not obvious?" John chuckled. "I didn't take you for the shy type."

"Don't-" Sherlock's protests were cut off as John slid his hands beneath his shirt, abandoning the buttons. John's fingers were splayed as he slid them up Sherlock's smooth sides. The detective's eyes widened. John offered a reassuring smile and gently massaged his friend's sides. Sherlock dropped his hands away from his shirt, feeling silly at this point. He studied John's face as he triumphantly unbuttoned the last few buttons. Sherlock sighed and shrugged out of his shirt.

"Happy?" He pouted. John pulled his best friend close.

"Mhm." John hummed against Sherlock's lips. His hands caressed every inch of skin he could reach. Sherlock tugged the doctor's shirt up and unlike Sherlock, John didn't put up a fight. He pulled away from their kiss, letting Sherlock pull the shirt over his head. Whereas Sherlock's skin was smooth and unmarred John's held scars, the most noticeable being the gunshot wound. Sherlock's eyes saddened as he brushed his fingertips over the scar tissue. Another difference was the light brown curly hair that decorated John's chest. When John pulled him into another kiss their bare skin touched, both men exploring the other man's exposed flesh with eager fingertips. Tongues exploring, tasting each other. They were both curious about the other; what small action could elicit the best response from the other, how far could they go...

A knock sounded at the door, startling both of them. Mrs. Hudson called through the door to them. Apparently they had a guest. Sherlock closed his eyes trying to make his mind up about whether he could just ignore the guest or not. John was trying to push him away. He frowned at the other man and John shrugged.

"We have to answer it. Let's hurry up, before she decides to just burst in here or something." John said.

Sherlock wasn't too thrilled about it but decided the other man had a point. The two of them pulled their shirts back on, John taking deep calming breaths. A distraction was probably a good thing at this point. It had been months since his last relationship. Maybe that was the problem, or at least part of it. The acknowledgment and acceptance of his feelings for Sherlock had opened the floodgates. The past few weeks Sherlock had been getting closer and closer to him, testing him it seemed. John had managed to play it cool but he always found himself wanting more and feeling angry at himself for feeling that way about his friend. Now, it was okay to accept each other. Looking back, it was like being teased for weeks. John hesitated at the door, no longer wanting to open it. How had he denied his feelings for so long? They had done little more than kiss and John was turned on. He had been aroused by the feel of his best friend; his smooth skin, those kissable lips, needy eyes. With yet another deep breath John reached out and opened the door, smiling invitingly at Mrs. Hudson.

The two men sat listening to the potential client ramble on about her missing husband. Sherlock wasn't very interested, but he made himself focus on the woman. That is until he caught John staring at him. What was the doctor so lost in thought about? It was rare for John to ignore someone else. John was supposed to be the good one. Whatever John was thinking, it appeared to be serious. Though, not necessarily bad. He was so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed that Sherlock was staring at him too. But John wasn't staring at Sherlock's face; his eyes were just a bit lower. Neck? Collarbone? Sherlock unbuttoned yet another button, expecting this to get his friend's attention.

"Am...Am I interrupting something?" The woman asked. John snapped out of it and began apologizing.

"Yes." Sherlock answered.

"Sherlock!" John scolded. The woman stood and started towards the door.

"Fine. Leave your contact information and we will look into it." Sherlock called. The woman stopped.

John awkwardly took the woman's contact information, apologizing again. Once she left John turned back to Sherlock. Instead of yelling he walked over to the couch and lay on his back with a heavy sigh.

"Ah, jeez, that was embarrassing." John groaned.

"We should have turned her away at the door." Sherlock said. John wanted to argue, but found himself agreeing. How had he expected to be able to focus on anything?

"What were you thinking about that had you so distracted?" Sherlock stood beside the couch, looking down at his friend.

"N-nothing. I'm just tired." John closed his eyes as if to prove it.

"Oh...I was thinking you wanted to continue from earlier." Sherlock's voice was too close. John opened his eyes to find the detective leaning over him; one hand on the back of the couch, one on the arm behind John's head. The first few buttons of Sherlock's shirt was undone. How inviting.

"Sherlock...mph.." John was silenced by Sherlock's lips on his. His hand found its way into Sherlock's hair, holding him close. He groaned at the feel of Sherlock's tongue on his.

"John," Sherlock's voice was husky and passion filled. "let's go to my bedroom."

"Why yours?" John found himself asking.

"Closer." Sherlock kissed him again until he felt dizzy.

"Ummm... why again? Why the bedroom?.." John asked.

"The couch isn't big enough." Sherlock stated.

"Ahh, okay... I have basically no... restraint..." John confessed. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at that.

"Off we go then." Sherlock urged. John got off the couch, his hand in Sherlock's.

"I actually am tired you know." John said hesitantly.

"Then sleep with me." Sherlock led the other man to his bedroom.

"Right..." John watched as Sherlock took off his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Next came the belt. "Ahh... Sherlock? What..."

"Just getting comfortable John. What are you so concerned about?" Sherlock undid his pants and John bit his lip. Either this was getting serious or Sherlock was being far too oblivious about the affect he had on John. Sherlock chuckled. "You don't expect me to sleep in my trousers, do you?"

"I suppose not..." John found himself saying. Sherlock approached him. It was becoming clear to him that if he expected much from John he couldn't allow the other man time to think. He could be swept along, sure, but he wasn't quite ready to just jump into things with Sherlock. John's eyes were drawn to the unbuttoned pants. He made himself look Sherlock in the eye and wasn't sure that was much better. Sherlock pulled John into a gentle kiss.

"Stop thinking so much." Sherlock whispered, holding John's face between his hands.

"People who don't think much do things they regret." John pointed out. He kissed Sherlock as the beginnings of sadness showed on his face. "Because I might get carried away..."

"You admitted to liking me and being attracted to me. What's the problem?" Sherlock asked. John was sure he was blushing at this point.

"Well... you're the first guy I've been interested in... it takes some getting used to." John found it hard to look at his friend's face.

"Fine. Since you are too shy... we'll do sleep pants." Sherlock decided. John thought about it a moment. That would mean going all the way up stairs to change his clothes and come back down stairs. Sherlock sighed and walked away to get his sleep pants. "Let's go to your room if you have to go anyway. I'll meet you up there."

John started to say something to Sherlock but the other man started pulling his pants down, maintaining eye contact. John cleared his throat and headed out the door. He could hear Sherlock chuckle as he headed to his room. The thought of seeing Sherlock in nothing but his underpants was too much for John. He had seen the other man in nothing but a sheet or a towel, but that was different. The mood was completely different now. Before he might have stolen a few glances at the other man but Sherlock hadn't really been aware of his attention. A sulky Sherlock wearing nothing but a sheet wasn't the same as a seductive Sherlock in undies. He changed quickly, worried that Sherlock might decide to show up without giving him time to get dressed. He chose a pair of soft pale blue sleep pants and barely managed to pull them on before Sherlock opened the door. The detective smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.

"I knew you would rush to change." He said. Sherlock's sleep pants were white and blue stripes. He wore nothing but the pants. John had pulled on a plain white tee.

"Barely made it in time." John frowned. Sherlock winked at him and took his hand, leading him to the bed.

"You're overdressed." Sherlock said tugging on the other man's t-shirt.

"Why do I get the feeling that you would be fine with no clothes?" John laughed. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat on the bed. The truth was that the skin on skin contact was very comforting. It was something that the detective had not yet experienced, something he thought he would not like. Sleeping on John's lap had felt safe and comfortable. Sherlock couldn't help but think it would be nice for the two of them to be closer. He wanted John to feel the same level of comfort and safety as he felt. John motioned for him to move over so he could get on the bed. The two friends lay side by side for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. Sherlock rolled onto his side so he could study John. The doctor had the arm closest to Sherlock beneath his pillow, his shirt raised slightly showing a thin strip of tan skin. Sherlock pushed himself up, resting on his elbow so he could get a good look at John's face. The other man smiled gently.

"Stop staring at me." His voice was so low it was almost a whisper. John could be really cute sometimes. The easy smile that seemed to be just for Sherlock, those kind eyes. It was times like this when John appeared to be a few years younger. He seemed so relaxed and happy... as though he hadn't been through tough times. Sherlock loved all of John, he respected him, but this was his favorite part of the doctor. At times like this it truly seemed as though John might love him too. His guard was down because he was with Sherlock. He trusted Sherlock. Despite the fact that the detective had only led them both into danger, John trusted him. A hand brushed his cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You're making a strange face again." John warned him.

"I seldom do anything else." Sherlock responded.

"Hmm, I don't know. Sometimes you can be pretty cute." John said, fingertips lightly brushing along his friend's jawline. Sherlock frowned.

"Cute? Don't be ridiculous." Sherlock rolled over onto his back. John rolled onto his side, hand coming to rest on Sherlock's chest.

"You're beautiful." The doctor said sleepily. Sherlock placed his hand over John's.

"Shut up and go to sleep." He grumbled. He could hear John's soft laugh and then the other man was cuddling closer to him. They readjusted slightly so Sherlock could wrap his arm around the shorter man. John ended up with his head resting on Sherlock's chest, his arm around Sherlock's waist. John realized he had never felt so content in his life. Never before would he have imagined himself in this position. And with a man... though it wasn't just any man. He was lying in bed with the most exciting person he had ever met. This bold genius wanted to be with him. It wasn't just some misunderstood feelings or curiosity... Sherlock's heart was pounding. Had anyone's heart ever responded this way for him before? He finally gave in to sleep, the rhythmic beating of Sherlock's heart lulling him into a peaceful slumber.

Sherlock closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and fall asleep. He lay there for a moment feeling himself finally begin to fall asleep. John groaned in his sleep, tightening his hold on Sherlock. It became clear that he was having a nightmare. Sherlock tried to comfort his friend, calling his name softly reminding him where he was. When the other man calmed down Sherlock kissed his forehead and held him close.

"I'm here John. You're with me. You're safe." Sherlock whispered. He allowed himself to fall asleep, holding John close protectively.

A/N: Ending it here today. Short and sweet. Please continue reading. Expect more when I'm fully recovered. Thank you for your support.


	6. Chapter 6

Take Me

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

A/N: Thanks for all the get well wishes. Just getting over a stomach bug, been feeling completely drained. However, in the making of this chapter some pervy-ness just begged to be let out. You have been warned. Sexual situations to be found below. I apparently use the word cock ;) Brace yourselves.

John woke to find Sherlock still asleep beside him. The detective was curled on his side, facing away from John. With a yawn John sat up, looking to the clock to see how long he had been asleep. Seven in the morning. They had gotten a full night of sleep. John found himself looking back to Sherlock. The blanket was down past his knees, his sleep pants low on his hips. He looked so cute and defenseless lying there in the fetal position. John's hand seemed to just suddenly be on Sherlock's bare side. He followed the smooth line down Sherlock's waist until he reached the sleep pants.

Why did he feel so curious when it came to Sherlock? He had never been even remotely interested in another man before, but with Sherlock... it's like he was completely gay for the guy. And for Sherlock alone. Was it possible to experience such a change? It appeared to be true that when it came to love gender really didn't matter in the end. If Sherlock had been a woman John would have been quicker to admit his feelings but that didn't mean anything else would be different. Everything John had been holding back now seemed acceptable. He lay back down, turning on his side so he could maintain contact with his best friend.

John wondered how far the two of them would actually go. Would their relationship turn sexual? Was Sherlock interested in that sort of thing with him? John wasn't sure how far he was willing to go. Now that he was thinking of sex with Sherlock... wasn't the detective a virgin? The thought of being the first and only one to ever touch the beautiful detective that way was almost too much. Sherlock had seemed pretty sensitive to his touch. John held his breath and tried to calm himself down. He needed to get out of this bed now. Sherlock pulled his hand tighter around himself.

"Warm." Sherlock muttered sleepily.

"Let me pull the blanket up." John smiled.

"Be my blanket, John." Sherlock ordered. John chuckled and tried to think of a way to oblige the other man safely. Sherlock became impatient and wiggled back to press himself against John. The two men stilled.

"Ah... sorry." John apologized awkwardly. Sherlock blushed but refused to give up his current position.

"It's fine. We're both men here." Sherlock said, meaning he understood what it was like.

"Are you...?" John stopped himself. He couldn't believe he was really asking, but he wanted to know if Sherlock was aroused. What turned the detective on?

"Don't be stupid." Sherlock complained.

"Is that a no?" John moved his hand lower down Sherlock's abdomen. The other man's hand stopped him.

"What are you trying to do?" Sherlock asked.

"I can't?" John kissed the other man's shoulder, followed by a gentle kiss to his neck. Sherlock shuddered, he could feel the other man's breath on his neck and ear as John whispered, "Hmm, Sherlock? You don't want me to touch you there?"

"God, you're embarrassing." Sherlock groaned. This made John smile.

"You're embarrassed? That's unexpected." John snuggled closer to his friend.

"Of course..." Sherlock gasped as John licked his ear. He struggled to get away from the other man without thinking about it. John tightened his grip.

"Alright, I get it. I'll stop teasing you." He kissed Sherlock's shoulder and tried to will himself to calm down. He tried to think about something other than Sherlock's smooth skin, Sherlock's deep velvety voice... He wondered how the detective would react if he were to slide his hand down those striped sleep pants and tease him even more. John imagined Sherlock's needy eyes; something he had seen many times lately. The way his name sounded coming from his best friend...

"John... John! Let me go." Sherlock was struggling against him. John came to his senses and released the other man. He rolled over and took a deep breath. Sherlock sat up and looked down at the other man with a frown. John looked up at him apologetically but the lust was still evident in his eyes. Sherlock's eyes were drawn down John's body, down to the offending bulge. He quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught.

"I'm going to go take a shower." John announced, sitting up. He left quickly, before he could change his mind and possibly molest Sherlock.

Sherlock watched the other man go, unsure how he felt about being left alone so suddenly. He wondered what had gotten into John this morning. Maybe if Sherlock had been more awake he would have reacted differently. It was just so unfair for John to be able to touch him when he couldn't even look at him. He got up and went downstairs so he could freshen up. He decided to make a pot of coffee while he took a shower himself.

John groaned as he leaned back against the shower wall. His body wouldn't calm down. He tried to think about anything disgusting or boring. Nothing was working. He only found himself wishing his friend was in the shower with him. Sherlock completely naked and wet. The guy's moods were harder to predict than the weather. Would it be a shy Sherlock or a seductive one? The possibilities only excited him more. More to imagine. He realized his soaped up hand had begun to drift between his legs. No, he wouldn't touch himself. What kind of man was he, anyway. Plus there was no way he would be able to look Sherlock in the eye afterward. Sherlock clearly hadn't liked being teased, but would it have been okay if it wasn't teasing? Perhaps Sherlock just wanted to be more in control.

John was surprised to find that Sherlock had made coffee. He poured himself a cup and sat on the couch to watch the morning news. Sherlock joined him at some point, fully dressed and distant. John sighed and picked up the notebook he had used yesterday to jot down the contact information for the lady with the missing husband.

"We should probably look into this. We told her we would." John said. Sherlock looked up at him.

"I have no interest in finding a missing husband. He probably left her for a good reason." Sherlock shrugged. John's eyes widened at this.

"And what if he's in trouble somewhere?" John asked. Sherlock laughed.

"You think you're going to save him? We're not heroes, John." Sherlock grabbed John's laptop and sat on the couch. "Let's see... facebook, twitter... ah. Here."

John sat beside his friend and watched as the detective scrolled through each page. She often met up with strange men and even mentioned Sherlock a few times. John frowned at the computer.

"So she's just a horrible wife." John sighed heavily.

"Her husband was finally fed up with her. Instead of being upset about him leaving her, she used him as an excuse to come here." Sherlock looked to John.

"Ugh. Why can't people be sincere? You're getting quite popular." John pointed at a fan page for Sherlock Holmes.

"Whose fault do you think that is?" Sherlock frowned. John met his eyes apologetically.

"Not my fault the world is full of nutters." John smiled. Sherlock rolled his eyes at him and closed the laptop.

"Bad mood today?" John asked.

"Why do you say that?" Sherlock grumbled. John leaned back on the couch.

"Well you seem a bit moody. And possibly not interested in me... Change your mind?" John asked. He was trying not to feel insecure but something was definitely off here.

"Don't be stupid, John." Sherlock frowned at him.

"Are you mad at me for trying to molest you?" John wondered. Sherlock blushed.

"You were half asleep. Who knew you would wake up so... horny." Sherlock couldn't look at him. John looked away, embarrassed. Everything was finally starting to fall into place. Sherlock knew that John had never been interested in men so he was afraid of being rejected. The same thing had happened when John had tried to take Sherlock's shirt off. He thought Sherlock finally got over that when he suggested getting practically naked. Then again, John had refused and they had instead slept in their sleep pants.

"It's not like I woke up and decided to molest the closest warm body." John explained. "You're the only guy I've been attracted to but... I don't know the best way to say this... Sherlock... I'm completely gay for you."

The two sat in an awkward silence before bursting into laughter together.

"That has to be the strangest confession I've ever heard." Sherlock teased.

"But it's true. It's how I feel." John shrugged. Sherlock cleared his throat and feigned seriousness.

"I feel the same." He leaned into the other man and they shared a kiss with smiles on their faces.

"So does that mean you're okay with-" John was silenced by Sherlock pulling him into a passionate kiss. Sherlock's tongue on his was driving him mad. "Ugh. Why did we have to get dressed?" He asked breathlessly.

The two men began undressing each other from the waist up. Sherlock lay back on the couch and unbuttoned his pants. John swallowed hard, staring down at his friend for a moment before leaning down and stilling Sherlock's hands. He kissed Sherlock gently on the lips before kissing a path down his friend's neck. John continued downwards, licking the smooth collarbone. Sherlock shuddered. When John flicked his tongue across a pale nipple Sherlock gasped and slapped John on the shoulder.

"What- ngh-" Sherlock tensed as John lightly bit his nipple, the doctor's hand lightly massaged along Sherlock's side. He continued his descent, down over Sherlock's abdomen. He licked just above the other man's waistband and grinned to himself at Sherlock's sharp intake of breath. He began pulling Sherlock's trousers down, amazed at how badly he wanted to see the other man naked. When the dark purple boxers were revealed John could do nothing but stare. He pulled the pants completely off and took in the site before him. Sherlock looked slightly unsure. John licked his lips as he let his eyes travel down his friend's body. Sherlock had to swallow his pulse twice in order to speak.

"This isn't very fair." He managed. John blinked a few times and met those turquoise eyes. Sherlock sat up and unbuttoned John's pants. He was pulled into a heated kiss before being gently pushed away. John stood beside the couch and kicked his pants off. He quickly regained his position on the couch, between Sherlock's legs. Sherlock leaned back on the couch once more, trying not to blatantly stare at John's blue boxers. John's hand smoothed down Sherlock's thigh, fingertips brushing just under the fabric of his boxers. Sherlock was embarrassed to find that where he tried not to stare, John didn't seem to feel the same.

John was pleased to see that he wasn't the only one turned on here. Sherlock's boxers seemed a little tight, perfectly outlining the young man's arousal. John lightly brushed his fingertips over the fabric there and smiled when Sherlock's hips jerked in response. Even better, he was sure Sherlock groaned his name. He allowed himself to be pulled down on top of Sherlock. When their lips met, so too did their bare skin and just the lightest brush of their lower bodies. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, keeping him right where he wanted him. When Sherlock attempted to get more comfortable on the couch their hips brushed against one another. John bit Sherlock's lip and pressed against him more, pressing the other man into the couch. Sherlock gasped at the small pain and tightened his grip on John. This was a new sensation to both men. John pulled back just enough to be able to look down at his friend. He'd actually bit Sherlock's lip hard enough to make it bleed.

"Sorry. Does it hurt?" John asked apologetically.

"I like it." Sherlock's voice had taken on that husky tone. John rested his forehead against his friend's.

"You know I meant your lip right?" John laughed shakily.

Sherlock smirked at him and pulled him into a kiss, shoving his tongue into John's mouth. John groaned and responded eagerly. Sherlock gently pushed John away, just enough to be able to see each other's face.

"John...is it alright to touch you...?" Sherlock asked. He wasn't sure how to properly say what he wanted. John clearly didn't seem to understand.

"You are touching me, so I'd say it's alright." John smiled. Sherlock frowned slightly.

"No, I mean here..." Sherlock slipped his fingertips into the band of John's boxers and began to slide his hand towards the front, tugging on the fabric a bit. John was sure he forgot to breath for a moment. Sherlock touching his bare skin was amazing, but the thought of skin to skin contact in such an intimate place was almost enough to send him over the edge. He wasn't sure he could stand it for long, but he was damn sure willing to try. He leaned back so he was kneeling on the couch between Sherlock's legs. He let his hand slide from the other man's chest down to his boxers.

"If I can, you can." John decided. Sherlock raised his brows at this and pushed himself up, one arm behind him to prop himself up.

"Fine, but I asked first." Sherlock teased, kissing John gently. John sighed. Before he could respond, Sherlock brushed his thumb over the soft fabric covering his cock. John hissed, one hand on the back of the couch the other on Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock considered whether he wanted to push the other man's boxers down or use the convenient opening at the front. He glanced up at John's face and tugged the boxers down. Though John should probably have expected this he reacted nicely, hips jerking slightly. It would take a few more tugs to get the boxers down far enough but John was willing to lend a hand. Sherlock stared at the other man's cock, his thumb teasing circles around John's hipbone.

"You're pretty turned on for someone not attracted to guys." Sherlock teased. John pulled him into a kiss instead of arguing with him.

"Raise your hips." John's voice was low, gentle but a bit demanding. Sherlock obliged. John surprised him by pulling the boxers all the way down, getting off the couch to tug them off Sherlock's feet.

"Is this a competition?" Sherlock laughed. John grinned and pulled his boxers off as well. Now that Sherlock was completely naked John couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful man. He wasn't muscular but he was toned. Somehow delicate and manly. John regained his position on the couch, kneeling between Sherlock's legs. He simply sat back on his legs and allowed himself to be pulled into a kiss. He couldn't believe he was naked with Sherlock. While he was distracted with the kiss and his racing mind, Sherlock wrapped his hand around John's cock. The sound John made against his lips was more than satisfying. John pulled away so he could meet those turquoise eyes. Sherlock gave him a little squeeze and began to slowly slide all the way down, then all the way back up. John swallowed hard and looked down. Who would've known it would be so erotic to have another man touch him. He slid his hand up Sherlock's thigh before lightly stroking the other man's cock. He used only his fingertips, teasing the detective. He smiled when Sherlock's cock twitched as if begging for more. Sherlock had bitten his lip at the contact, his grip unconsciously tightening a bit where he held John. Their eyes met, John feeling more amazed by the minute that he could do these things with Sherlock. He lightly brushed his thumb over just the tip and felt himself get more turned on by the look on Sherlock's face. He was definitely not going to last long.

"Here, lay back. I want to try something." John said in that low voice that Sherlock began to coin his "sex voice". Sherlock allowed himself to be pushed back on the couch once more. John moved with him, leaning over him. He pressed their cocks together, adjusting the placement of their hands so they both helped press themselves together. Sherlock groaned his name, hips thrusting forward involuntarily.

"Ahh... god...I don't know if I can hold out much longer...You feel so ...damn good..." John had to close his eyes so he couldn't see his friend's face. He couldn't take it. Part of him wondered if he was really just a pervert, wanting to see his best friend's face as they touched each other. But no one else had seen Sherlock like this; those glazed over needy eyes, parted lips, flushed skin...

Sherlock felt like he had somehow found himself in a very naughty dream. Not more than a few days ago he had expected to be rejected by this man and now he was naked with him. And John seemed to possibly want it as much as he did. He looked down at the most intimate parts of themselves pressed together. John seemed to be trying hard to calm down, but Sherlock didn't want him calm. He thrust his hips up against the other man's cock and was rewarded with his name being hissed. He returned his gaze to John's face and found he couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. John groaned against his lips and moved his hips and hand in unison, causing Sherlock's hand to follow suit. John pulled away from the kiss to nibble Sherlock's ear. The detective gasped, his hips thrusting forward, grip tightening. John continued, encouraged by this response. The feel of their cocks rubbing together was driving both men crazy. The sound of their quickened breathing-punctuated by soft moans-filled the room.

"Oh god, Sherlock... Tell me you're close." John groaned. The sound of his name being called in such a lustful way so close to his ear was almost enough to push Sherlock over the edge.

"John!" It was almost accusatory, as he grit his teeth and thrust his hips against his friend's.

"Sherlock...I'm going to..." John felt like every single muscle in his body was clenching up, eager for release. Their pace quickened. Sherlock gasped the other man's name and it was game over for John. The feel of John's cock twitching against his bowed Sherlock's back slightly as he too found release. They continued to rub their cocks together until the final spasms were over. John kissed Sherlock's forehead and took a shaky breath.

"Looks like we're going to need another shower." John said.

"Fine. Give me a moment." Sherlock said breathlessly. John smiled and kissed him, looking down into those beautiful eyes. "Alright, alright. Let's go. Try to resist getting aroused again. I would at least like to not dirty the couch any further."

"Are you going to take a shower with me?" John asked.

"Yes..." Sherlock answered, narrowing his eyes at John.

"Then I'm going to get aroused again." John warned.

"Fine. Off we go." Sherlock feigned annoyance.

A/N: Yea, so that happened... It seemed like a good point to end. Got a bit long but if you have a dirty mind like me, you're okay with that. Thank you for reading. I almost had them do more, but that would make for a very long chapter... Ah well. More to look forward to! Hope you enjoyed it.

Also, I have been confessed to with "I'm completely gay for you." Totally works. ;)

~~BellaRyuu~~~


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